


Water and Warmth

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Kinktober 2018 [24]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Bath Sex, Gentle Sex, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, but this old married couple will be the death of me, except merlin is not dead, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: His husband’s deep brogue rolled pleasantly over him like a physical force. “Room for one more?”“This is my bath,” Harry told him. “Get your own.”





	Water and Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Day twenty-four was bath/shower sex, and I really like how it turned out. It's slow and sweet, which makes a nice change of pace, because I feel like I write way too much desperate sex (or maybe just enough). Anyway, have an old married couple doing old married couple things.
> 
> Title is kind of dumb. But it's dumb cute fluff so what can you do.

Harry let out a long sigh of pleasure and relaxed deeper into the bathtub, the hot water soothing his aching muscles in a way that very little did anymore. Loathe as he was to admit it, he was getting old. It was probably for the best that he’d been promoted to Arthur; desk work might have been boring, but it meant less galivanting around the world, getting himself into dangerous situations, and royally fucking up his back trying to get out of them again. Living this long in a job like this was an incredible achievement. He might as well enjoy it.

Not to say he didn’t still love the missions, of course. But having a few less of them wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

He closed his eye, tilting his head back against the cool porcelain of the tub. The temperature contrast was lovely, decadent in very satisfying ways. There was a low pulse thrumming in his blood as the water lapped at him, but he curled his fingers around the rim of the tub instead of where the pulse was emanating from, wanting to savour the quiet a moment longer.

The gentle knock on the door didn’t faze him, and his husband’s deep brogue rolled pleasantly over him like a physical force. “Room for one more?”

“This is my bath,” Harry told him, voice full of mirth. “Get your own.”

Merlin’s footsteps echoed softly on the titled floor, but Harry didn’t open his eye, leaning into the touch when Merlin knelt to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. If Harry focused, he could hear the soft whirring as Merlin’s legs worked, adjusting to the position. They were technological marvels, really, and each prototype was more impressive than the last.

“I was worried today,” Merlin murmured, taking a seat by the tub. His voice was somewhere close to Harry’s ear, comfortingly present in the large bathroom.

“You always worry when I’m out in the field.”

“Aye.”

“It was only a local mission, darling, and it was only recon. I didn’t even have to run.”

“I know.” Merlin fingers stirred the water idly. “That does not stop me from worrying.”

Harry’s eye fluttered open, almost of its own accord. Merlin was watching him, face impassive, but there were still traces of worry in his brow. Harry reached up and smoothed them out with his thumb, and it was Merlin’s turn to close his eyes and lean into the touch, the gesture soothing the tension between them the way words were no longer necessary for, not after everything they’d been through together.

A bit reluctantly, his muscles protesting at the move, Harry sat up, nodding towards the bath. “Come on, then. In you go.” His gaze flickered down to Merlin’s legs, covered by his trousers but with the bare metal feet still visible. “Will you need to take those off?”

Merlin nodded. “Technically I can wear them in the water, but I’d prefer not to, if that’s alright with you.”

It was. Just as Merlin was well accustomed by now to the scarred socket where Harry’s left eye had once been, Harry had grown used to the fact that his husband was now metal and plastic from the knees down. Both things meant for accommodations neither had considered before, but their life had changed surprisingly little in spite of it, at least now that Merlin was out of physical therapy.

Getting Merlin situated behind him took a bit of effort, but it was worth it to lean back against his husband’s chest, closing his eye again as Merlin carded his fingers through Harry’s curls, loose with the lack of product. His own fingers trailed over Merlin’s thighs, tracing patterns beneath the water, occasionally dipping a little lower to run right to the edge of his knees. The knot of scar tissue would always be a little bit sensitive, but it no longer hurt Merlin physically for Harry to touch, and he always kept his fingers light brushing over it. Merlin had worried, early on, that Harry might think less of his for it, think him less whole, but Harry had thoroughly trounced that idea the first time Merlin brought it up, first with a blowjob and then later with a deep, in-depth discussion about their insecurities in the aftermath of Valentine and Poppy. They were better for it, now, and at the touch Merlin merely made a low sound in his throat, vibrating through his chest and against Harry’s back.

The pulsing between Harry’s legs returned, more insistently this time, and he felt more than heard Merlin chuckle in his ear, fingers curling over his hip, tantalizingly close to Harry’s twitching cock. “You know we’re getting a bit old for this, love.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said. “I refuse to believe you can ever be too old for sex.”

“For sex in the bath?”

“We’re both sitting down. I’d hardly consider that exerting ourselves. It’s not like I’m asking you to fuck me standing in the shower. Although…”

“No.” Merlin’s voice was more a laugh than anything else.

“Spoilsport,” Harry huffed affectionately. When it became clear that Merlin was not going to touch his cock, merely tease at his hip, Harry reached for it himself, wrapping his hand lightly around the sensitive, still-soft flesh and feeling it grow warmer in his grip as blood began to work its way through the organ, making it swell beneath his fingers. He gave it a long, slow stroke, the water sloshing around the motion, and leaned his head back into Merlin’s shoulder, a long sigh escaping his lips.

Finally, Merlin’s hand covered his, but Harry whined when all his husband did was still his strokes. “Darling…”

Merlin shushed him. “I’ll make it worth your while, love. Give in to me.”

“Always.” There would never be a day when Harry was not willing to put himself in Merlin’s capable hands. He uncurled his fingers slowly, and Merlin released him so he could let go of his cock, setting his hands on either side of the tub and taking a deep, steadying breath. Merlin kissed the exposed length of his neck, nosing into the skin leisurely, and trailed his fingertips along Harry’s cock, not fully hard yet but still growing even with only a light touch and the water for stimulation. Harry shuddered, hips twitching up until Merlin took the pressure away, a gentle warning. He forced himself to still, and the hand came back, touch a little steadier this time, cupping the underside of Harry’s cock and rubbing firmly under the head.

Harry let out a low moan, and Merlin tipped his head to the side so he could silence it with a kiss, lips moving over Harry’s but not trying to open his mouth just yet, just feeling the kiss for what it was. Against the small of his back, Harry could feel Merlin’s own cock growing hard as he teased Harry, carefully working him to full hardness with his light touches.

It was exquisite, not enough pressure to satisfy the burning ache growing in Harry’s gut, but more than enough to make his blood simmer beneath his skin. Merlin broke their kiss to find the spot behind Harry’s ear that always drove him wild, sucking gently, and Harry moaned and melted further, Merlin’s fingers tightening on his hip to keep him in place. Harry reached back with one arm, securing it around Merlin’s neck, needing to know that his husband would stay close. It was an absurd need, given the space they occupied together, but it was a comfort that Harry savoured each moment of. They’d been parted too many times. Never again.

Merlin’s fingers finally curled around Harry’s fully-hard cock, and although his grip was still loose, the increase in pressure was delightful, especially when Merlin swiped his thumb over the tip, smearing slick precum before the water washed it away again, the motion a spark of pleasure that coursed down Harry’s spine. Merlin didn’t speak, just began to stroke in slow and careful motions that had Harry fighting the urge to buck into his grip, to circle Merlin’s hand with his own and forced the fingers tighter and faster, working himself rapidly towards orgasm. Merlin preferred it slower, and today Harry would indulge.

The water wasn’t ideal; it kept things wet, but not slick, and the duality of Merlin’s burning strokes against the cool, lapping water soon went to Harry’s head, making him squirm. Merlin released him knowingly, and before Harry could complain about the loss his hand was back, slick with shampoo and so much better. The glide was smoother, and Harry sighed, turning his head slightly to press tiny kisses to the corner of Merlin’s mouth.

“Better?” Merlin asked.

Harry nodded. “Much.” He pushed back a little, not in a position to really stimulate his partner’s cock and hoping he got the message. To be sure, he asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Merlin laughed and nodded. “Aye.” But he didn’t make a move to touch himself, or even grind against Harry. Instead, he started to stroke in earnest, twisting on the downstroke just the way Harry liked and moving the other hand from Harry’s hip to his balls, cupping the tight sac and rolling it between his fingers, tugging gently every so often. Harry spread his legs a little wider, encouraging the motion, and it pressed him more fully against Merlin, their thighs practically on top of each other, Harry sinking into his partner almost completely.

“I’m close,” he murmured, although his orgasm still felt oddly distant, even as it clearly built inside him. Harry recognized all the signs: the pressure building in his groin, the way his balls tightened, the stimulus to his cock starting to feel like it was affecting his whole body, every nerve lighting up as Merlin played with him. And yet they were distant feelings. Merlin’s steady presence, pressing behind him, was the most important feeling, the sensation that Harry clung to.

“Come whenever you’d like, love,” Merlin murmured, biting down on the shell of his ear. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

The permission was appreciated, and it only took a few more strokes for Harry to come, pulses of semen painting over Merlin’s fist and floating away obscenely in the rippling water. Merlin stroked him through it, lightening the pressure gradually as Harry’s cock softened and grew oversensitive, until he released him altogether in favour of stroking over Harry’s thighs, running his fingers along the solid muscle that Harry maintained with rigorous gym sessions, just on the offhand he was needed in the field. With his free hand, he reached for his own cock, and Harry felt Merlin’s knuckles brush his back as he gripped himself and began to pump the hard flesh, not the teasing he’d given Harry but a firm, brisk touch that had him coming quickly, warm against Harry’s back as the water cooled around them.

He released Merlin, returning his hands to their previous position on the tub, and he felt Merlin rub at his back gently, possibly cleaning him off or perhaps rubbing his cum into Harry’s skin, staking a claim. Harry didn’t particularly mind either way; the orgasm had left him sated and boneless, and the only reason he could think for moving was the prickle starting to form in his fingers as they began to wrinkle and prune.

“We should get up,” Harry murmured.

“We should,” Merlin agreed.

Neither of them made a move to leave the tub. Merlin nibbled thoughtfully on Harry’s ear, and Harry closed his eye.

“If you fall asleep on me, I’m going to be pissed,” Merlin warned him, but there was fondness in his voice.

“I’m not falling asleep,” Harry responded. “I’m just resting my eyes a moment.”

“I don’t have the energy to haul your sorry arse off of me so we can both get out of the tub.”

Harry laughed, opening his eye and sitting forward so he could twist around and look at his husband. “Alright,” he teased, “I suppose I’ll have to do the heavy lifting for both of us, then.” He hauled himself out of the bathtub, his limbs still wonderfully loose, and then helped his husband up by way of scooping Merlin into his arms, Merlin letting out a grunt of surprise when Harry didn’t set him down again. “Bed, darling?” Harry suggested.

“If you drop me-“

“I won’t,” Harry reassured him. “Ye of little faith.” And without blinking, and without much of a strain at all, he carried Merlin into the bedroom.


End file.
